Welcome Death with Open Arms
by 2SWEETCherry
Summary: Ruby is determined to win the Hunger Games. So is Hydro. And Velvette. And Orianne. And Barkley. And Mishellie. This is the 53rd Hunger Games. Prepare to be killed.
1. Chapter 1: Ruby

**Ruby ~15 ~ District 1**

_I can't keep my eyes closed any longer._

Immediately, I sit up in bed. My alarm clock reads 4:30. I heave a small sigh. I wasn't able to sleep almost all night because I was so thrilled. I smile to myself. The day was finally here! The day I, Ruby Rowan, would volunteer for the Hunger Games!

I leap out of bed and prance over to my closet. I search through all of last season's dresses. LAME! There's no way I can go out in public wearing one of these! I should've bought a new dress. It's too late now because all the shops are closed on Reaping Day. I look over all the dresses again and again. So many dresses, all of them suck. I try on a few. A pink bubble dress, a night-blue gown that's tight in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean, and a lavender strapless. I come across a gross lime green-yellow, plastic-y, frilly, puffy-sleeved that I have no idea why I bought it. I make a mental note to drop it off at the poor people's fund thingy on the way to the Reaping.

Finally, around 5:40, I settle for a silky red dress with spaghetti straps that ended just above my knees. _Good enough_, I think. I slip it on over my head on and place a pair of black high-heels on my 8 ½ size feet. I pull my blonde hair back into a bun and secure it with an onyx hair clip. On to my finger, I slide a silver ring with three gems on it: one emerald, one sapphire, and one ruby. It symbolizes my sisters and me. It will be my token in the arena.

I look at my alarm clock to confirm the time. It's only 6:23. I sigh.

My name's Ruby Rowan. I live in Victor's Village with my parents and two sisters. My mom, Crystal, and my dad, Jasper, were both Hunger Games Victors. Even my older sister, Emerald, won her Games two years ago. Now, it's my turn.

I'm the best in my training class, except when it comes to a bow and arrow. I have beat almost everyone in hand-to-hand combat, including some of the 18 year-old boys. I can bench 140 lbs. I throw knives so well, it's insane, but, when I'm holding an axe, no one even comes near me. I can shuck an axe 10 yards and almost always hit my mark.

I'm only 15, but I am volunteering. And I _know_ I'm going to win.

I hear a light tapping at my door. "Come in!" I say. Emerald and Sapphire poke their heads inside my room. Sapphire grins, "You look SO pretty!" I flash a smile, "Thanks."

Sapphire's only ten, but she can hit a bull's eye with an arrow from 20 yards off. She's so sweet. She and I both inherited my dad's blonde hair and blue-green eyes, but Sapphire's are greener.

Emerald hugs me, but she doesn't look happy for me, "Listen Ruby, the Arena is living Hell, are you sure you wa-?"

I interrupt, "I'm upholding the family tradition!"

I jump up from the chair I was sitting on and head for the door, but Emerald holds me back.

"Just come home, okay?"

"Definitely!"

Emerald doesn't say anything as I release myself from her grip and race out my room's door and down the stairs. She _so doesn't understand how I feel about this_, I decide as I sit down at our glass dining table. My mom comes down the stairs. "Hi, Precious!" she exclaims. I wave. She fixes me a plate of scrambled eyes and bacon, her brunette curls pinned up on the top of her head.

She sets the food down in front of me and pulls up a chair for herself. I begin to chuckle. "What?" she asks.

"Oh," I laugh again, "Oh, nothing."

_This will be as worthless as tesserae grain when I eat in the Capitol_, I giggle.

And then….

"OH, CRAP!"

I jump up, not bothering to finish my breakfast, and dash upstairs. My mom's calling after me, but I don't answer. _How could I be so stupid? _I tear past Emerald, whose heading down the stairs. "What's wrong?" she calls after me. "Forgot make-up!" I yell back. I sprint to my desk and rip open my drawers. I grab my make-up bag.

_Okay, we start with concealer..._

The Reaping's beginning late. Its 9:08 and it was supposed to start at 9. There's a Reaping every hour.

My friend, Mady, works her way through the crowd, followed by Auna. "You look so hot", Mady says when she reaches me. I put my hand on her shoulder, "I have to in I'm gonna volunteer." We all jump around and squeal. Auna eyes are shining, "That is, like, so amazingly awesome." My silver hoop earrings sway, "Duh! This is _me _we're talking about!"

As we wait for the stupid mayor to start his stupid speech about the stupid rebellion, we talk about what we're going to do when I come home from the Games. I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder, so I turn to find myself face-to-face with my red-headed, freckled-nosed, hazel-eyes creep of a fiancé, Trist Quaintler.

I give an inward groan. Well, the problem is that my parents believe in arranged marriages. Trist and I have been set up together since he was 6 and I was 4. Anyway, Trist plants a kiss on my cheek, "I might say, you look quite lovely this morning." I look him up and down, "Too bad I can't say the same thing about you." Trist's tall, lanky, 17 year-old stature was wearing a pair of ripped-up and a black tee. His lengthy ginger hair was in a ponytail.

"I brought you a present", His thin hands hand me a deep-red rose that matches my dress perfectly.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Sweetheart."

He smirks at me, turns on his heel, and struts off to the roped area for the 17s, where he belongs.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Sweetheart", I mock. I throw the rose on the ground and smash in under my foot, "Yeah, right." Mady and Auna stare open-mouthed at me.

"Whaddya' do that for?" Mady asks. I quickly shush her, because the mayor is beginning his speech.

Trist hates me and I hate him, but it hasn't always been that way. When I was 7 and Trist was 9, he promised he would always love me. Of course, what does a 9 year-old child know about Love?

I actually liked him back then. He was funny and cute and gave me every flower he picked. I guess I loved him too, but then his hormones started acting up. Trist started to despise being in an arranged marriage. At first, I didn't know it, but he began to cheat on me. He even went out with Auna behind my back!

My eyes tear up and I'm grateful I wore my water-proof mascara. I quickly wipe my eyes and avert my attention to our escort, who's wrapping up her speech. Marsenda Commen (our escort) smiles down at us from the stage, her diamond-incrusted skin glinting in the sun.

"Ladies first!"

Marsenda walks over to the girls' tank. Nerves jump up and down my spine as she reaches into the tank and pulls out the first piece of paper she comes in contact with.

"Nersiss Calamit!"

I see the girl walking up to the stage and recognize her. Nersiss is the girl with bloodshot eyes and yellowing skin that always smokes at school. I grin to myself. Once I make such an impact by volunteering, no one will even remember a 'Narsiss' excists.

"Any volunteers?" Marsenda asks in her cheery Capitol accent. Without a moment's hesitation, I shout, "I volunteer!"

Marsenda grins so wide that it looks like her face is gonna spilt in two, "Come on up and introduce yourself!" As I walk towards the stage, I hear applause and cheering. I also receive a few pats on the back. _I was born for this_, I smile.

"What's your name?" Marsenda asks once I reach the stage.

"Ruby Rowan."

"I should've known! You look just like your dad!"

She moves away from me and heads for the boys' tank, "And now, for the gentlemen….

"Trist Quaintler!"


	2. Chapter 2: Orianne

**Orianne ~ 15 ~ District 2**

My alarm goes off. I groan and roll myself off my bed and onto the floor. Slowly, I crawl over to my nightstand, still half asleep, and slam my hand down on the alarm clock, causing it to shut up. _Get up, get up, get up_, I tell myself. Opening my eyes, I stand and walk to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face.

"Hurry up, Ori!"

"Patience is a virtue, Bruit", I sing back sweetly.

My brother's just being stupid, as usual.

I finish up in the bathroom and walk out the door. Before I know it, Bruit has me in a headlock. _Dammit_, I think, _I shouldn't have let my guard down_.

"God, you took long enough," he mutters, "You're about as fast as a dead slug."

"Shut your face."

He lets my go and starts to head for the bathroom, but in a matter of seconds, I have him pinned, "Shouldn't have let your guard down, sucker!"

Wrestling is my specialty. Wrestling and knife throwing. I've been training for the Hunger Games, like, since I could walk, but I'm still gonna wait two years until I volunteer.

The name's Orianne Lysem. I have two older brothers, well, I _did_. One was killed in the Hunger Games a couple years ago, but I never get emotional, son don't ask me to now. I'm 15 and live in District Two.

I let Bruit go and quickly run back to my room, before he can get me into another headlock. It's about three hours until the Reaping. I reach for a hairbrush and flat-iron and attempt to make my hair decent. Around 45 minutes later, my hair is straightened and it looks presentable.

Next, I choose my outfit. I rack my closet, looking for something pretty, but not too girly. After a while, I find a dress that looks okay. I pull it on. It's purple, with ¾ sleeves and a thick red belt across the middle. It stops around the knee. I slide on red flats and look in the mirror. The dress fits my slender-yet-muscular build quite nicely.

_Wait_, I think as I stand in front of the mirror, s_omething's missing_. I run back to the bathroom, which Bruit had long abandoned, and pull open drawers and cupboards, searching for the perfect hair accessory. I scramble around for about 20 minutes. I'm unable to find what I'm looking for, until Bruit comes stumbling in. He's holding a triangular clip and locket. They're a matching set that my brother gave me before he died.

"Hey, Ori? Are these yours? Don't ask me how they ended up in my room, bu-."

I grab the jewelry from his grasp and run out before he can finish his sentence. In my room, I slip the necklace over my head and secure the clip to a lock of red hair. Perfect. On my way to the door, I steal a glance at my clock. Wow, hard to believe it's already 9:02. Time sure does go by quickly.

I dash down the stairs and skip breakfast. Sitting on the couch, I flip on the TV and catch the District 1 Reaping. The clock says 9: 42 when the escort draws the girls' name. Another girl quickly volunteers. She walks briskly onto the stage and the escort asks he name. The girl flashes a perfect smile and replies, "Ruby Rowan."

Rowan. The name echoes in my skull. I turn off the TV. I've heard that name before. Suddenly, a scene flashes through my mind. That girl… my brother… Rowan. Narrowing my eyes, I stand. I am going to take her down. Remember how I said I don't get emotional? Well, right now, I'm driven by one emotion… hate.

I charge out of Victor's Village, heading for the square, where the Reaping takes place. I live in Victor's Village because my grandpa won his Games and invited my parents to live with him. When I reach the square, I realize I'm late. The mayor is ending his speech by the time I sit down in the 15s' section.

_I don't need two more years of training, I'm gonna volunteer._

I see the escort grin his idiotic Capitol smile. His name is Kylen Sombler. Kylen's body is covered in cheetah spots and he's bald, so he looks like one big cat. As always, he begins with his sinister purr of "May the odds be ever in your favor" and goes on to say, "Ladies first."

He paws around the jar of female names and pulls one out. He reads the name that's printed on the slip of paper, "Koll Cingsword!" A small 12 year-old starts to make her way to the stage, but I beat her to it. I grab the microphone out of Kylen's hand, "My name is Orianne Lysem and I'm volunteering."

Kylen smirks, "Excellent."

Mr. Sombler prowls over to the boys' bubble. He takes his time choosing a name. I keep my eyes trained on Kylen as he calls the name into the microphone.

"Caliber LaFelton!"

A young boy comes from the pen of thirteen year-olds and walks up to the stage. Kylen pats his shoulder, "Welcome aboard, Caliber."

Caliber and I shake hands. His brown hair covers his blue eyes. But his eyes were unfocused and there was something different about them. No pupils. Then, it dawns on me. Caliber's blind.


	3. Chapter 3: Wemberly

**Please pardon the fact that I haven't posted for a while. I have been vacationing and was not able to type. Thank you for understanding.**

**I hope you enjoy District 3's Reaping.**

**Wemberly~15~ District 3**

"I've been up since 5."

Colton turns away from the District 1 Reaping and flashes me a smile. The crescent of teeth shines under the dim light of my living room. My heart gives a small flutter.

"Well, it was worth it. You look great."

_He's just your friend. Always has been. You don't want to ruin that. _

Oh, why do hormones start acting up at the weirdest times? I discreetly wipe my sweaty palms on my vivid orange dress and punch Colton in the bicep (which was sooooo muscular, oh my GOD!), "Liar!"

Suddenly, the TV goes black. Colton averts his attention to the screen, "Looks like its night in District 1."

I groan, "Not again."

I flip the television off its pedestal. Working as fast as I can, I grab a screwdriver and try to fix it.

_Red wire… and connect this to that… this goes here… Viola! _

The screen lights up again. I grin.

I live in District 3, the tech-y, nerdy, smart District. I love inventing and creating new things.

After placing the TV back in its previous position, we watch as the tall, lanky 17 year-old male walks up to the stage. We still have approximately one hour till our Reaping. Colton clears his throat, stopping the awkward silence, "Although you look quite beautiful, your outfit is a bit too cheery. Shouldn't you be wearing funeral clothes or something?"

I glance down at my brightly colored dress. There were small yellow flower around the orange neckline and a bright, sparkly, purple flower clip in my dark brown hair, which I had inherited from my grandma. She won the 25th Hunger Games. I were it every Reaping Day to honor her. Oh, the Capitol and their STUPID Games! I hate it. Every year, the Capitol sends 2 kids- one boy and one girl from every District- to fight to the death in an arena, which is set in an unknown location, until there is one winner. So, yeah, Colton's technically correct. I should be wearing funeral clothes. The Reaping is the closest you can get to a funeral without it actually being one.

Colton gives a low whistle, "Check her out."

A red-haired girl is boarding the stage in District 2. She has an intense glare. When her District counterpart is standing next to her, they shake hand. Her intensity turns into unease.

"Wait… if their shaking hands then-!"

Colton glances at his watch, "We're gonna be late for the Reaping!"

We leap off the couch and race out of the door.

Arriving in the nick of time, Colton and I slip into the pen of 15s just as the mayor clears her throat and begins her long speech about the Rebellion. I quickly get bored, so I elbow Colton and make a few gestures with my hands. First a rock, then a paper, then scissors. He rolls his eyes, but a smile tugs at his mouth. That draws my attention to his lips. His luscious, full, pink lips that I would love to kiss. I wet my own with the tip of my tongue and pull my eyes away. We begin our game of 'Rock, Paper, Scissors', which neither of us has played since we were, like, six.

Believe it or not, we get so absorbed in this sad excuse for a game that we don't stop until we hear a loud cry of "HAPPY HUNGER GAMES!" This startles us so much that we jump and I grip Colton's strong arm. When I realize what I'm doing, I can feel my face turn bright red and I stop hurriedly.

Valindee Foomb, the District 3 escort, is so ecstatic and hyper, it should be illegal. This is our third year having her as an escort. I hate her. I abhor everything about the Capitol. How could someone be so happy on a day like this?

Ms. Foomb holds the microphone so close to her mouth. Whenever she exhales, you can hear it.

"So," She declares much too loudly, "Let's start with the ladies, shall we?"

The mic screeches with feedback as she runs over to the girls' bubble. Her five inch heels allowed her just enough height to reach the slips of paper. Someone had to pick her up last year. Talk about vertically challenged.

I hold my breath as she unfolds the paper and gives a troubled grin, "One moment, please." Colton's hand is on my shoulder. We both know what's coming as Valindee asks the mayor how you pronounce the name on the paper. The mayor takes the microphone, "Wemberly Nettlestien."

Colton tights his grip, not wanting to let go, but I'm forced to shake his warm grasp off. I feel numb as I walk towards the stage. Valindee regenerates her toothy smile, "Any volunteers?" It's dead silent. She pats me on the back. I stiffen, not wanting her Capitol germs.

"Now for the young men."

Valindee struts over to the boys' jar and grabs a name, "Juge Quincee!"

A boy from the 12s walks to the stage. He's missing an arm and tears streak his face. While he's on his way, Ms. Foomb asks for volunteers.

"Me! I volunteer!"

Suddenly, I see him: black hair, tan skin, and familiar green eyes. Colton runs onto the stage. I stare at him as Valindee asks him his name.

"Colton Mikro."

We shake hands.

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper grimly.

"I wanted to protect you", he softly answers.

I feel like slapping him over his cute head, "We might have to kill each other."

His eyes widen, "Oh… yeah… didn't think of that."

**Yes, he may be cute, but Colton Mikro isn't the best about thinking ahead. This is not one of my better chapters, but if you disagree… REVIEW! And if you agree, please review! I wish you a happy New Year. Once again, I'm sorry I haven't posted for a while. **

**Cherry**


	4. Chapter 4: Rina

**Rina~16~ District 4**

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Mrm…"

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Hmm…"

BEEP! BEE-! "SHUT UP!"

I throw a clenched fist down on the beeping clock, stopping its obnoxious clamor. I lay back in bed, my eyelids closed, listening to the waves wash across the seashore. Somehow, I never get tired of that sound. I toss the covers off me and run out of my room. I hop into the elevator and click a button. Being the mayor's daughter, I do have an elevator in my house. It's not high-tech or anything, but it gets the job done.

I pull my shoulder-length dirty blonde hair into a ponytail. The elevator gives a loud _ding _and its doors open. I hear the soft nicker of my white Arabian, Pearl.

"Hey", I say.

She nickers again, affectionately. I feed her a sugar cube, "Wanna go for a ride?"

As you're probably wondering, I'm still wearing my pajamas, but that makes no difference to me. I'd ride Pearl anytime, anywhere, wearing anything. I'm still wearing my slippers, and that's not exactly safe, though I could care less. I pull on my riding boots and begin to saddle her up.

When I finish, I shoulder a brown satchel and jump on her back. She starts out of the stable. Before I know it, we're on the beach. Wind is whipping across my face and my short ponytail is hitting the back of my neck. The smell of the ocean is intoxicating. I pull back on the reigns slightly and Pearl slows down. I hop off her and grab an apple out of the satchel.

While Pearl is munching happily on the snack, I plop down on the grass and heave a sigh.

The Reaping's today and I can't help but fear being chosen. I would probably have a chance of winning, but for what? I already have a really nice house and money and Pearl is the perfect friend. I have no reason to win, except that if I die, my parents would most likely sell Pearl. They're not exactly her biggest fans.

"What are you doing, miss?"

I look up to see a Peacekeeper staring down at me.

"Oh, I was just out on a ride."

"I see. Well, today is the Reaping and you should be at home", her hand moves closer to her gun, in case she has difficulties.

"I'll leave now then."

I was always taught to never mess with Peacekeepers. You never know if they're gonna shoot you or not. They're really unpredictable.

The Peacekeeper escorts me home ("Pesky teenagers. You never know if they're going to do what you tell them to.") She grips Pearl reigns as we start on our long trip back to my house.

When we finally arrive, the Peacekeeper's eyes widen as she realizes that I'm the mayor's daughter, but her trained face immediately hardens into an unreadable mask.

"I'll take it from here."

I lead Pearl back to her stable and, after removing her riding equipment, close the stable and board the elevator. When I reach the main floor, the doors open. As soon as I get out, my mom, the mayor of District 4, is yelling at me that she has to leave for the Reaping, so I'd better hurry up and get ready. I steal a glance at the clock. There are only about 15 minutes until the Reaping.

Soon, I'm racing up the stairs and into my room. I fling open my dresser and grab the first dress I see. All I know is that it's blue. I slip it on. I don't care for make-up (never really did), so after I brush my hair, I run out of the room. I slide down the banister and go into the kitchen, where my mom is sitting, drumming her fingers against our dinner table.

"Good morning, Mom."

She looks me over. She gives me a look of displeasure.

"What?"

She shakes her head and walks out the front door. I follow her.

We reach the village square. Mom gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves for the stage. I go join the roped off area for the 16 year-olds. I look toward the stage where District 4's numerous victors are gathering.

Suddenly, I feel someone elbow me in the side. I turn to find Sabryna Wavsten giving me a sinister smirk, "Nice shoes, Avalon."

I glance down and discover that I'm still wearing my riding boots. I must've put them back on after I got dressed. I swallow my embarrassment. I won't give Sabryna the satisfaction. But, to make matters worse, soiled stable bedding and sand is glued to the soles of the boots. I can feel myself blush, but I can easily retaliate, "Shut up, Sabryna Seaweed Brain."

Now it's Sabryna's turn to blush. I've known Sabryna forever. When we were little, everyone in our first grade class began to call her "Sabryna Seaweed Brain". Whenever someone would taunt her with this nickname, she would begin to cry. She still gets embarrassed by the pet name.

We started to bicker, but stopped abruptly when the District 4 escort, Lefonda Riget, told the crowd of 12 to 18 year-olds to "SHUT UP!" Lefonda walks over to the abnormally large fish tank that holds the girls' names. She reaches in and pulls out a name. She calls the name into the microphone.

I stand stalk still, unable to move. Sabryna pushes me forward, "Get moving, Avalon!" I walk towards the stage. I stand next to Lefonda and she mutters, "Took you long enough." She asks for volunteers. No one answers.

"Fine, onto the boys", Ms. Riget says in her snobby Capitol accent. She walks over to the boys' bubble of names. She unfolds a slip of paper, "Hydro Tyson?" I see a boy from the 18s make his way to the stage. He's tall, burly, and tan. I realize he's THAT boy. Hydro's the boy who never talks and spears fish by the dozen. Sometimes, at the docks, I see him watch the fishes' gory ends. The animals flop around, blood spilling from their puncture wounds. He's perfect for the Hunger Games.

This skin tone and muscular build make him handsome and I've heard some girls (Sabryna) whisper about him. I find him creepy and considerably weird. Hydro mounts the stage and I can feel his intense eyes scan my body, which makes me uncomfortable. He may be strong and silent, but that doesn't stop him from being hormonally-driven.

His rough hand makes contact with my soft one. Hydro's grip tightens and my fingers crack. I wince. I'm going to die. I'm actually glad I wore my riding boots, because I'm pretty sure I would never feel their supple leather again.

**I hope you like this chapter. Hydro's scary. **** I know he seems kinda like Cato, but he's more of a wannabe-ladies-man, homicidally inclined, rude, sees-women-as-objects jerk. Does that make sense? **

**~Cherry **


	5. Chapter 5: Carlee

**Fifth chapter! Enjoy!**

**Carlee~14~District 5**

I roll over in bed and find myself face-to-face with a shaggy-haired dog. "Sizzles!" I cry as the small dog licks my face. My curly auburn hair sticks out in a bunch of different directions when I see myself in the cracked mirror across the room. I shove Sizzles off my bed and get up. Sliding my glasses up onto the bridge of my nose, I start down the hallway.

As he hears me enter the kitchen, Louz, my older brother, turns around. "Mornin' Carlee!"

I sit at the small wooden table where we eat our dinner and grunt my thanks as he hands me a bowl of brown something. It looks like crap and tastes like cardboard and is probably the tesserae I brought home last week. I end up feeding it to Sizzles under the table. That dog will eat anything.

I dart down the hall to the bathroom. I grab a little jar of baking soda from under the "sink" (it's really a stool with a bowl filled with water from the creek on top of it) and pour a small amount into my mouth. We're not able to afford toothpaste, so we use the baking soda we received on Parcel Day. I run an old toothbrush over my crooked teeth. I've wanted to get them fixed forever but, no matter how hard we work, Louz and I would never be able to afford it.

I'm pretty much the ugliest girl in all of Panem. To add to the crazy hair, ugly clothes, and ruined teeth, I'm smart. Now, a lot of people might not see this as a problem. I love being smart, but if you want to be cool at my school, you have to act like a ditzy weakling that thinks about boys 24/7. I've attempted faking it. I hate the feeling, but I really want to fit in.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimes 12. I walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. I start to get ready for the Reaping. A pleated green skirt and a bright pink sweater that clashes with my hair. I look hideous. _Typical, _I think.

I set off to the square to watch the rest of District 4's Reaping.

District Four's muscular male tribute squeezes to girl's hand so hard, it turns purple. The television in the Village Square goes black and the mayor begins his speech. Soon, oue escort takes the stage and flounces over to the girls' name tank. Her mouth moves, I hear a familiar name, and the ground rushes up to meet me.

**Oh, Carlee. How I despise this character and this chapter. *sighs* I promise the next chapter will be better. By the way, the boy tribute's name is Charlie. I know their really similar, but I couldn't care less at this point. Sorry that this chapter is so short.**

**~Cherry**


	6. Chapter 6: Mishellie

**I'm SO sorry that it took me so long to write this next chapter. I had tons of homework and a bunch of papers to write. I hope you'll forgive me. Also, I'm going to get around to the second chapter of my SYOT. Sorry!**

**Next is District Six. The girl tribute from here… well, she's not OCD, but she likes everything exact and clean. She enjoys it when everything's on schedule. Enjoy!**

**Mishellie ~ 16 ~ District 6 **

**6:00~ Alarm Rings**

I stretch and sit up in bed. I place my feet on the ground. The Reaping dress I had laid out the night before is sitting at the foot of my bed. It's a beautiful v-neck dress that I matched with a gold headband and pair of flats that look great with my olive skin and dark hair. I get dressed and brush my hair exactly 20 times before I open my door and walk into the hall.

**6:20~ Wake Bli**

I enter my fraternal twin sister's room. Compared to my living quarters, her place is a complete pigsty. Dodging piles of dirty clothes, I come to her bed. Bli's slim figure moves slightly as she snores. Her messy light brown curls cover her face.

"Bli," I shake her shoulder, "Bli… its Reaping Day. Wake up."

"Five more minutes…"

"Bli, last time we let you sleep for five more minutes, you slept till lunch."

Suddenly, her head shoots up, "Lunch? Where?"

I smirk, "Glad to see you're up. Get dressed. The Reaping's today."

**xXXx**

**7:15~ Breakfast**

Bli comes marching down the stairs, wearing a black and blue dress. Her hair is cleaned and falls down her back in chocolate color locks. She's yawning as she helps herself to five pancakes. I turn on the television. All that's on is pre-Reaping news, mostly about the Capitol or past victors.

Our older brother, Pasquale, soon comes down too. He sits himself next to me, skipping breakfast, which is funny for him, since he usually eats like a horse.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I ask him.

He gestures to the pancakes, "Did you make these?"

"Yes."

"Then it's safer if I don't eat them. Don't wanna get food poisoning."

I glared at him, "I ought to strangle you."

He holds up his hands, "Hey, I survived the Hunger Games. I'm pretty sure that I can take my wimpy sister."

I smack him, "Shut up."

It's thanks to Pasquale that we have our nice house. Four years ago, he won the Hunger Games. He was 16, the same age I am now. I guess he's too skittish to eat anything today.

**7:30~ 51****st**** Hunger Games Replay**

The newscasts and interviews change to an old Games rerun. The 51st Hunger Games. Oh, yeah… that was the year that District One girl won. No surprise there.

"God, that was a bloody year," Bli says. I see her pale next to me. I sit up straight and lean closer to the TV. I'm not a Games-fanatic or anything… just something about it interests me. When the blood starts to flow, Bli leaves. Pasquale soon follows her, but I can't tear myself away. Finally, the District One girl, Emerald, buries a spear in the District Two boy's heart and it's over.

**9:00~ District One Reaping **

Bli and Pasquale come back downstairs for the Reapings.

A medium-height, stunning blonde quickly volunteers. She introduces herself as "Ruby Rowan". I snort at the name, "District One and their ridiculous names."

"Her sister won the Reaping you just watched," Pasquale says.

I think back to a couple of minutes ago, "Yeah, your right."

Practically their whole family has won the Games. It's probably a tradition or something. The boy is super tall and smirks at Ruby as they shake hands. I can't tell if they know each other or not.

**10:00~ District Two Reaping**

I leap up to go to the bathroom and miss the first half of the Reaping. When I come back, a young boy is walking towards the stage. He looks so small and I'm sure he'll go early. He looks like he's not ready to accept his fate.

**11:00~ District Three Reaping **

A girl with a funny name is called up. I'm immediately jealous of her looks and the boy who volunteers after her (who is adorable!) takes obvious interest in her. She gets teary-eyed and doesn't look at him.

**12:00~ District Four Reaping**

A sinister pair is chosen: A tall, tan, muscular boy and a small, sly, clever-looking girl.

**1:00~ District Five Reaping**

The girl, Carlee, faints before she reaches the stage. The three of us have to hurry to the square, so we miss the boy.

**xXXx**

**2:45~ The 'Lottery' Part of the Reaping**

"And our female tribute is…"

Our escort's cheeriness is contagious and I almost feel happy too. Almost.

"Mishellie Newton?"

What? I try to walk calmly towards the stage, but my legs are shaking so bad, I almost fall.

_Okay, Shellie, take deep breaths_, I mount the stage, _calm down and think of a plan… okay, number one, how are you going to kill these people…?_

**Yay! Another finished chapter! I know it's kind of rushed, but I hope you liked it anyway.**

**Cherry**


	7. Chapter 7: Kisa

**Kisa~14~District 7**

"Kiiiiiiisa… Kiiiiiiisa… KISA!"

I open my eyes to find the dappled face of Charl, my 9 year-old freak… I mean, brother. I shove him off my bed, "Scram."

"MOOOOOOOOOM! Kisa pushed me!"

I leap out of bed, "You twerp!"

He throws me a gap-toothed smile and runs out of my room. I chase after him, mumbling angrily.

"Mommy, ground her!" Charl whines to my mother, who's nursing Kristie, the newest addition to the Rosson family.

Mom sighs and pats his head, "Not today, Charl."

Charl groans loudly and crosses his skinny arms over his chest. He narrows his eyes at me across the room. On my way to the kitchen to get some breakfast, I ruffle his hair, "You are such a drama queen."

"I AM NOT A DRAMA QUEEN!" He screams and races out of the room. Kristie begins to cry.

"Can't you all just STOP YELLING?" Kellis, my older sister, marches out of her room and places her hands on her hips.

"I'LL STOP WHEN YOU STOP, BUTTFACE!" Charl calls from his room.

"You are SO immature, Charl!" Kellis shouts back to him.

"ENOUGH!" Mother cries with the wailing baby in her arms.

Ah, family… such love.

**xXXx**

I place myself in the fourteens' section and watch the Reapings of 4, 5, and 6 on the screen made by District 3 in the village square. The contrast of the two tributes from 4 is surprising. The boy is tall, muscular, and unnerving, while the girl is lean, short, and rather plain. If I were in the Games, I wouldn't look forward to going against the male. District Five's female tribute doesn't even make it to the stage. She is carried by a pair of Peacekeepers. Her male counterpart is about 15, with curly blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes. My knees turn weak just looking at him. His name is "Damien Darles".

Last is District 6. They produce two 16 year olds, but the boy is bawling like a small child, so they didn't seem like a big threat. We're next… District 7. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to find my best friends, Arty and Tarla, grinning at me. Tarla, who's actually 15, but sneaks in to chat with us, starts talking super fast about who she think will be picked and how she "soooo hopes it won't be any of us!"Arty just rolls his eyes and let's her talk. But even Tarla can't talk over Mayor Burlee, who is staring daggers at her in particular.

Tarla swallows and we sit, pretending to listen to the speeches and Treaty of Treason. Finally, our stupid escort, who's name I still haven't learned, stands up and says in his so-fun-to-mock Capitol accent, "How about we start with the boys this year?"

He walks over the tub and pulls out a name, "Barkley Nettleton!"

I recognize that name from somewhere. Turning, I see that Tarla's usual happy smile has turned to tears. Oh, right, that's her boyfriend. He has curly hair and big brown eyes that are shared by most of the District. Barkley's 16 and really strong, so I'm sure the odds are in his favor….

But then I think about that District 4 guy, and I'm not so sure.

Barkley walks to the stage and I wrap my arms around Tarla.

"Any volunteers?"

Everyone is silent, except for Tarla, who's making a large fuss.

"TAKE ME INSTEAD!"

The Peacekeepers take her away from the crowd.

The escort walks over to the girls' tank, "Kisa Rosson."

I hear a shriek. I know it's Tarla as she's being dragged away. I don't know why, but I'm smiling. I have absolutely no reason to, but I am. I'm going to die, but… I can't help it. Our escort pats me on the back, "Great to have your enthusiasm."

Suddenly, it all sinks in and tears begin to stream down my face.


End file.
